


A Requiem for the Lost

by Ingol



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Naruto
Genre: Canon? What Canon?, Multi, Reincarnation, Servants in Naruto, Uzumaki Ritsuka is now a thing, Uzushio
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-01-03 21:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21186287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingol/pseuds/Ingol
Summary: Uzugakure was famous for its seals, and as a by-product, rituals.What is the system of summoning Heroes from a distant time and place if not a ritual?





	1. Chapter 1

Uzugakure was famous for its seals, and as a by-product, rituals.

What is the system of summoning Heroes from a distant time and place if not a ritual?

It starts with a child opening her eyes to a distant memory. In her past life, she had been an average mage. But somehow, she had saved the world with single-minded determination and the power of friendship.

* * *

Uzumaki Ritsuka was an odd child. Oh, she had the enthusiasm and abrasiveness of a typical Uzumaki child, but sometimes, her eyes would seem distant and lonely, as though seeing spirits that weren’t visible to others.

Her parents worried, but with how busy they were, there was not much time they could spend to determine the source of the oddity.

Then, Uzushio fell and time was no longer of concern.

* * *

Blood, fire.

Screams as warriors threw away their lives, trying to preserve what was left of their precious hometown, to save what was left of the children.

The smell of blood reeked. So familiar that it haunted Ritsuka.

As the child of the Uzukage, Ritsuka was held to certain expectations, but not once had she ever witnessed a death.

Not in this life.

The memories of witnessing slaughter and not being able to do anything about it, of looking at the aftermath of destruction, trying so hard to save those who couldn’t be saved.

Ritsuka remembered them all.

“Mash…” She sobbed quietly, memories rushing back to her head. Of faithful companions who had stood by her through thick and thin, of the sacrifices made, of those precious, precious friends who had fought so hard just because, just for her.

Ritsuka clamped a hand over her mouth and stayed huddled up in her hiding place as the fighting went on. Her parents… they were strong. They definitely were strong. But…

Ritsuka might have been a child, but she wasn’t unaware of what was going on. There was a war. Three days ago, a country attacked their little island. Her father was the leader of the island, the Uzukage, and had went to the frontlines to quail off the worst of the attack. Her mother had ran for Konoha, an ally country to seek reinforcements.

Reinforcements never arrived.

Uzushio fell.

* * *

Chaldea had used a special summoning system that didn’t require a chant or a circle. But Da Vinci had taught them the summoning circle to use for an actual Holy Grail War once upon a time.

Ritsuka no longer remembered why the genius Caster had done that, most probably for shit and giggles, but… She still remembered how to summon.

Even in an entirely different world, even in a body without access to magic circuits and instead with something called chakra, that ritual had been so similar to the seals that the Uzumaki used. So similar that surrounded by death and destitution, Ritsuka hoped.

The circle was drawn with her own blood. In other circumstances, Ritsuka would have preferred ink. But while the invaders were gone, she couldn’t confirm that there weren’t any lurkers outside. Staring at the familiar-yet-foreign circle, Ritsuke steeled herself.

“Silver and iron be the essence. Let my blood and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. To my friends from a lifetime past. The alighted wind becomes a wall. Let the four gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate. Your self shall serve under me, my fate shall be with your sword.”

Ritsuka wanted to continue, but this _wasn’t a Holy Grail War._ If this summoning needed prana, she was dead.

The summoning circle was starting to glow. No. She couldn’t hesitate now. Ritsuka tossed whatever was left of the verses taught to her out of her mind.

“Strangers who belong not to this world! Spirits that I once knew! Come to my side once more! I, once Fujimaru Ritsuka, call to you! O keeper of the balance, hear my words and answer my plea!”

A bright flash washed over the room. Ritsuka closed her eyes.

“Servant Saber, Shinmen Musashi has arrived!”

…There was no drain. Ritsuka thought dumbly before lowering her hands to stare at the familiar grey-haired woman.

“Eh? Hey, my memory’s kinda fuzzy but I remember you! Ritsuka! It’s been a while!”

Ritsuka ran up and hugged the woman around her waist, but only succeeded in hugging one of her thighs.

“Ahahahaha! Look at you! You’re so short!”

“…”

“Huh? What was that, chibi?”

“…Thank you for coming to me.”

“Heh. No biggie. What are friends for?”

* * *

“War, huh? That kinda sucks.” Musashi said, looking around the desecrated island.

Ritsuka had only lived here for five years. But even five years was enough for her to miss the island’s vibrancy.

“You mean it sucks that you couldn’t fight.” Ritsuka gave Musashi a knowing look. The swords-master laughed sheepishly.

“Well, there’s that.” Musashi’s expression sobered up. “Maybe it’s cause of you, but I really hate what those guys did to your home.”

“Speaking of those guys…” Musashi drew her sword. “Oi! Come out! Face me like a warrior!”

A man with a headband appeared. Ritsuka blinked. Had he always been there?

Ritsuka’s gaze focused on the headband. That wasn’t the symbol of Uzushio. She glanced at one of the enemy corpses and found a matching pattern.

The man rushed forward, his hands forming seals.

“Musashi! Watch out! Shinobi here can use ninjutsu!”

“Got it Master!” Musashi rushed forwards, dodging a blast of water that shot through a wall, and brandished her swords. The shinobi was dead before he even hit the ground. “You didn’t have to worry about me, Ritsuka. See? I even made it a clean cut!” It was true, the man’s head had been perfectly separated from the body. “Hey, hey, what was that about ninjutsu?”

* * *

“AHAHAHAHA! You’re a shinobi!” Musashi slapped her thigh repeatedly, her other hand pointing at Ritsuka and laughing.

“Yeah, but! Shinobi are awesome! Kotarou taught me some stuff that I still remember!” Ritsuka knew that her eyes might be glittering, but… Shinobi were awesome.

“Yep, they are, aren’t they?” Musashi grinned.

Musashi was seated on a bed that had belonged to Ritsuka’s parents.

Ritsuka paused in the middle of her packing and stared at the summoning circle, a thought occurring to her. “Hey, Musashi. How are you here? I don’t feel any drain in my chakra at all, and I don’t have magical circuits to sustain you.”

“It’s kinda hard to say. It’s a bit like I can feel energy from all around. And when I get tired, I’ll just take a little bit from the earth and I’ll feel better.”

A world rich in energy, huh?

Ritsuka eyed the circle thoughtfully.

“Aww, planning on cheating on me so soon?” Musashi slung an arm around Ritsuka’s small shoulders playfully.

“It would be nice to have a shinobi teacher.” Ritsuka said thoughtfully.

“Oh yeah. Hey, why don’t you summon Danzo? She was really pretty, wasn’t she? Or even that Kotarou.”

Ritsuka knelt down and placed her hands at the edges of the summoning circle. One more before she destroyed this, she told herself. She reached for that pull that she had felt when summoning Musashi.

Ritsuka knew the feeling now. She hadn’t been pulling others from the Throne of Heroes, not really. What she had done was pull at the bonds she once held with her Servants, her companions.

The summoning circle lit up in a glow.

The light died down and a red-haired man knelt before her.

“Servant Assassin, Fuuma Kotarou.”

“Huh. If I had said Danzo’s name, d’you think that would’ve summoned her?” Musashi asked thoughtfully.

“Kotarou-!” Ritsuka hugged the Assassin.

“Ah! It’s nice to see you again, Master. A-ah… W-weren’t you my height before?”

That sent Musashi into another laughing fit.

* * *

Having Kotarou around really made things much more efficient. He had everything organized and packed in an hour.

“You can rest up, chibi Master. We’ll set off tomorrow.” Musashi patted the spot next to her. Ritsuka crawled up onto the large bed and inhaled the faded scents of her parents. It was nostalgic. She wouldn’t see them anymore. Everyone she knew before, they were probably dead, amongst the corpses that lay outside this house. Even the people that had greeted her each day, the children that had played with her… She would never see them again.

“…Ritsuka? You okay?”

Ritsuka sniffled and wiped the tears away from her eyes. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Hey, you just went through a bad time. If you wanna cry, then cry! I wanna see you all cheerful again tomorrow, got it?”

Ritsuka let the tears flow. “Yeah. Got it, Musashi.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I like Kotarou best.” Ritsuka declared.

“Whaat? Come on, all I did was dump a little bit of cold water on you!” Musashi complained.

Ritsuka prepared to shoot back a retort but faltered when she saw the pile of scrolls gathered in the room. “These are…”

“Fuinjutsu. I’m afraid that I am unable to help you in these aspects, Master.” Kotarou said dutifully.

“…No. No. It’s fine. Fuinjutsu was a Uzumaki clan thing. And a Tamamo thing.” Ritsuka opened up a scroll and scanned through the symbols. “See this part?” The two Servants leaned in. “This symbol, this entire part, is for a storage scroll. An entire dimensional storage… Man, the magi would be salivating over this by now.” Ritsuka emptied out the storage scroll. A pile of clothes. She folded them and placed them back in the storage scroll.

Kotarou watched her sort out the empty and used storage scrolls before moving to help out, considerably slower and much more wary.

“Hey, Ritsuka, what does this mean?” Musashi held out a scroll with different symbols. Ritsuka scanned it. “That’s a summoning scroll. For foxes.”

“Really? Sounds awesome!” Musashi waved the scroll around. “I summon you! Tamamo!”

“…Lord Musashi, I don’t think it works like that...”

“Let her do what she wants, Kotarou. At least a summoning scroll won’t explode on her.”

“Master, I believe this scroll seems rather different from the rest of the storage scrolls?” Kotarou said abruptly.

Ritsuka leaned in to look at it. “A blood-locked scroll?” She murmured to herself. A quick injection of chakra and out popped several tomes that buried Ritsuka under the sheer weight.

“Master!” “Ritsuka!”

* * *

Tomes on fuinjutsu. All of them handwritten. Ritsuka stared at them, running a hand down one of the covers. Her parents… Had written all these?

No, it wasn’t just her parents. All the adults. Had they anticipated this outcome for Uzushio? Ritsuka could feel tears gathering again in her eyes. She hurriedly sealed the tomes back in the storage scroll before she could get them wet with her tears.

“It’s kinda nice, huh? To know that you have a legacy left for you.” Musashi said, sounding distracted.

“Musashi. Can you help check for survivors? I know that those who lived must be gone now, but…”

“Yeah. Don’t worry ‘bout it, Master.” Musashi ruffled up Ritsuka’s hair (it was red, even in this life) and left the room, leaving Ritsuka alone with Kotarou. Ritsuka stewed in silence for a while longer before she spoke.

“Kotarou. My parents are dead.”

“…Master?”

“My father was the clan head. I’m now the clan head. What do I do?” Ritsuka started crying again.

Once her tears had died down, Kotarou spoke. “You become stronger, Master. Master the legacy left behind for you, train to be the best you can, search for what is left of your clan and teach them what you have learnt, all your techniques and mistakes, and you pass on your legacy.”

“Did you do that too?”

“I… Mine was a different case. I was the fifth head of the Fuuma clan. We both have our different circumstances. Master, I have sworn myself to you. I will teach you all you wish to know, and accompany you wherever you go.”

Everyone was gone now. Dead or escaped.

But…

Ritsuka smiled. “Thanks, Kotarou.”

She wasn’t alone.

* * *

Musashi came back, solemn with depressing news. “Nope. Not a single person.”

“…Oh.”

“But if it helps… I counted the corpses and they didn’t match with the number of homes. Well, this might be a false alarm but…”

But it meant that there was a chance that not everyone had died.

Ritsuka felt a spark of hope light up within her. “Thanks, Musashi.”

“…Hey Master. I swear as your sword, that I will never let those bastards get away with this.” There was fire in Musashi’s eyes and Ritsuka knew that she must have seen the mangled bodies of the children.

This time, Ritsuka managed to stop tears from escaping. “Alright. I’ll hold you to it, Saber.”

“…Well, now that all that depressing stuff is over and done with,” Musashi said once the silence got too thick, “I really wonder how good the udon here was. Noodles made under the sun, broth as salty as seawater…”

Just like that, the solemn atmosphere was shattered. Ritsuka laughed, relieved. “If there’s anything you should have tried, it would’ve been the ramen. I swear the ramen recipes had got to be passed down through generations.”

“We-ell, as long as it’s not anything like Kotarou’s secret manjuu.”

Ritsuka felt her insides churn at the mention of that, her thoughts unconsciously flashing back to the thought of that taste. “Urgh, don’t remind me…”

“Master! While I admit that my clan’s manjuu does taste bad, it is incredibly nutritious!” Kotarou protested.

“Ahahaha. How cute.”

“I’m not cute! Master!” Kotarou naïvely turned to Ritsuka, as though she would really stop this bullying.

“You are cute though.” Ritsuka immediately dashed his hopes.

“M-Master!” Yep, that was definitely a blush.

Ritsuke held up a hand behind her back, and Musashi equally sneakily gave her a high-five.

Kotarou gave the both of them a flat look from behind his bangs.

* * *

“You sure you don’t wanna summon more servants? It would be safer for you.” Musashi said as she watched Ritsuka erase the circle.

“Maybe in the future. But right now, I can’t afford to draw more attention to the Uzumaki.” Because even if she was the only person who could summon Servants, it would still put a target on the scattered members of her clan. “Besides, I have the two of you, don’t I?”

“Damn right you do!” “Of course, Master.”

Done erasing the evidence, Ritsuke slipped on her oversized backpack- filled with storage scrolls- and raised her arms. Kotarou picked her up and for the first time, Ritsuka was acutely aware of how small her body was right now. She was five. Five! That was younger than Jackie and Nursery Rhyme!

“Where to, Master?” Kotarou asked.

“…Off this island.”

“And then?” Musashi glanced out the window. Storm clouds were gathering. “Where do we go next?”

“We wander. Look for what’s left of my clan. And… give me time to grow.” Before we return and rebuild.

“Got it, Ritsuka.” “Understood, Master.”


	3. Chapter 3

“The land of iron. A land of samurai.” Musashi said slowly, a grin threatening to take over her face. “I can’t wait to go there!”

“If it’s full of samurai, there should be little to no shinobi presence, right?” Ritsuka asked.

“Yes Master. From the information that I’ve gathered, shinobi rarely step foot in Iron.”

“Well, I’m not really a shinobi. Kotarou can also be considered an unaffiliated shinobi. And Musashi’s a wandering samurai. So that works out.”

“Alright! Swordfights here we go!” Musashi cheered.

Kotarou coughed. “About that…”

To get to the Land of Iron, they would have to cut across a large part of Konoha, Ame and the Iwa border.

“This sucks.” Ritsuka sighed. “Is there another way?”

“We could also take a boat across Kiri’s waters. But we would have to land in Iwa before similarly making our way to Iron.”

Travelling across two enemy countries or travelling across a tentative ally, a somewhat-neutral country and an enemy country.

“Well. Across Konoha then.” Ritsuka cast one last glance at her homeland. “Let’s go.”

With Ritsuka in his arms, Kotarou took off, flanked by Musashi.

* * *

With a Servant’s speed and lack of need of rest, they made it across Konoha easily in three days.

Ritsuka clung tightly to Musashi, Kotarou having gone into spirit form to recuperate his low stamina.

“Almost at Ame. Hang tight, Ritsuka.” Musashi said and sped up.

A warning pinged in Ritsuka’s head just as Musashi slid to a halt, shifting Ritsuka so that she could be held in one hand, her other hand on the sheath of her sword.

“Who’s there?” Musashi demanded.

“Telling me to show myself while you are in my land. What a gutsy samurai you are.” A low chuckle. Then mist started to spread. Musashi’s eyes widened. She spun and threw Ritsuka in the other direction. “Kotarou! Catch!”

Ritsuka winced as Kotarou appeared to catch her. The mist…

“Poison.” Kotarou muttered, trying to blend into the shadows.

“Who the hell are you?” Musashi drew both her swords.

“A swordswoman with four swords. You see something new every day.” From the mist, a figure stepped out. A blond man with a gas mask. “I am Hanzo.”

An almost expectant pause.

“Yeah. Who the hell are you?” Musashi repeated. “Are you going to stop us or let us pass?”

“If I refuse to do so? Will you fight me?”

“Hell yeah.” Musashi smiled, showing teeth.

Hanzo laughed. “Very well. For your courage, I will allow your companions safe passage if you were to pass.” Then, he attacked.

Musashi dashed forwards, ducked a sweep of a scythe, parried a swinging chain, and jumped back before a fireball could hit her.

She narrowed her eyes, and even from this distance, Ritsuka could tell that she was trying to find the shinobi’s weak point.

“Kotarou.” Ritsuka started, but Musashi spoke before she could give the order. “Don’t interfere. Either of you. This is a battle I wanna fight myself. Do you get it?” Musashi glanced at them.

“…Yeah. I get it.” Ritsuka nodded. “Kotarou. Move further away. Right now, I’m holding Musashi back.”

“Are you done speaking?” Hanzo asked, having waited for Musashi to speak her fill.

“Yeah. Let’s fight. For real this time.” Musashi grinned.

* * *

The fight was messy and fast-paced. Somehow, a giant salamander had gotten involved somewhere during the fight.

“Gotten serious, haven’t you?” Musashi shouted. She drew her foot back and sheathed her swords. “Then I’ll get serious too! I’ll show you the true essence of the Five Rings!”

Iridescent light surrounded her. When the light cleared, a four-armed figure appeared at her back, a sword in each hand. Waves of light flashed as the being slashed at Hanzo. Musashi drew a sword and as she held it in both hands, the sword started to glow. “This blade is my path of Void, the cumulation of my life!” She brought the sword down and Ritsuka could almost see the heavens itself split in the force of that strike.

When the light faded and the dust settled, it was a surprise to see Hanzo still standing, looking only somewhat winded. The giant salamander had somehow disappeared.

“What? Haah, you’re a strong old man, aren’t you?” Musashi laughed, and Ritsuka could hear the tension in her voice. “Guess I haven’t trained enough then, if my strongest strike can be so easily shrugged off.” Ritsuka winced. That was probably a great hit to Musashi’s pride.

“Hah! Do you not know of your achievement? To not only survive against me but to hold your own? I am Hanzo! The strongest shinobi in the world!”

“Yeah? Well, my name’s Shinmen Musashi! And I haven’t lost yet! Strongest shinobi or not, I’m gonna kick your ass!” Musashi snapped, and Ritsuka honestly believed that Musashi would fight until one of them dropped from exhaustion.

“Musashi. Enough.” Ritsuka called out.

Musashi stilled.

“What an astute master you serve, Shinmen Musashi. Head to Iron and train with a man called Mifune. When the time comes, we will see who will be the victor of our next fight.”

“…Sorry for getting carried away, Master.” Musashi said, looking subdued.

“Don’t worry about it, Musashi. That guy was a monster. I can think of several more Servants who would want to fight him to the death.”

“Heh. When I reached the Void, I never thought that I would lose again.”

“Then we’ll train. Train more until you can come back and kick his ass. Right, Musashi?” Ritsuka held out a hand. Musashi took it. “I’ll hold you to that, Ritsuka.”

* * *

“An age of shinobi…” Kotarou mused.

“The shinobi here are weird. What the hell is up with their ninjutsu? Can you do that, Kotarou?”

Kotarou looked thoughtful. “The chakra here feels different. More abundant.” He made a hand sign. A doppelganger poofed into existence.

Musashi blinked and looked at her blades. “Chakra, huh? Was that how he summoned that giant salamander?”

“Yep. It’s called a summoning contract.” Ritsuka said and then had a brief moment of epiphany.

“What’s up with that look?” Musashi picked up Ritsuka by the collar.

“I think technically, you guys are my summons.” Ritsuka said dazedly.

* * *

Iron was fun. Period.

Sure, at first, everyone shot them odd looks, some people even went out of their way to avoid them, and some shopkeepers even refused to sell to them.

Then Musashi got fed up and demanded a duel. Loudly. And very provocatively.

“Go Musashi!” Ritsuka called out, cupping her hands around her mouth as she shouted.

She stood beside Kotarou, huddled around in the circle that had formed around Musashi and one of the samurai that had taken up Musashi’s challenge.

Musashi side-stepped a swing of a blade, parried another and swept her sword across the man’s throat, drawing a thin line of blood. “I win.” She said with a smile full of teeth. She stepped back. “Who’s next?” She called out.

Another samurai stepped into the circle and drew his blade. Musashi laughed, delighted and finished it as quickly as all her other duels. “Someone give me a damn fight!” She shouted.

A samurai stepped forwards and the crowd hushed, spreading out to form a much wider circle.

“You… just looking at you tells me you have some skill.” Musashi said. Her other hand rested on the hilt of a sword.

“I could say the same for you.” The samurai placed his hand on the hilt of a sword.

Musashi’s eyes widened and she leapt backwards just as a lightning-quick flash sliced the air.

“You’re quick.” She said and brought her sword up to block the other’s blade. Her other hand unsheathed a second sword.

“You have good form.” The samurai replied. He darted forwards, forcing Musashi back again.

Musashi laughed.

“Hey master!” She called out, her eyes focused on her opponent.

“Win this, Musashi!” Ritsuka shouted.

“Understood!”

* * *

Ritsuka had almost forgotten how much fun it had been fighting by her Servants’ sides. It wasn’t that she enjoyed fighting – she would rather not take part in it if she had no other choice. It was the journey, the thrill and laughter on her Servants’ faces that she enjoyed.

These were the heroes who had summoned her call. These were her friends.

Ritsuka might not ever gain happiness or excitement from fighting, but she could understand it.

“He’s drawing!” Ritsuka called out. Musashi took a step back and blocked with a blade, side-stepping another swing. Metal clashed against metal as Musashi brought her sword against the base of the blade, sparks flying as she tried to stop the man from withdrawing.

She had another blade.

The blade swung swiftly through the air and rested on the man’s throat, just as the man performed an incredible display of speed, dislodging Musashi’s parry and pointing his own blade at her head.

“…Damn. I lost.” Musashi said and stepped back.

“I believe this would be a tie.” The samurai said.

“Nah. A loss is a loss.” Musashi said. “I’ll be back to challenge ya later. First things first, where’s the best udon shop in this place?”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuses. This is entirely self-indulgent after the arc that was Shimosa.


End file.
